Remus Lupin and the mysterious school for mysterious children
by umbridge-the-WOMAN
Summary: My take on the first year of Hogwarts for Remus Lupin, as he struggles to come to terms with new friends, a new and strange life, and most importantly, his identity. This is my first fanfiction so I hope I'm not letting the fandom down!
1. Introduction

**DISCLAIMER: I don't own the characters etcetera...If you don't know who these characters are, then I don't know why you're reading this.**

** Introduction: The mysterious boy with mysterious wishes**

Remus Lupin was the most miserable boy on earth. For one thing, he had no friends. His parents were the only people in his life, and if you don't think that THATS sad, then I don't think I can find anything you'll think is. For another, he wanted more than anything to go to school. He spent his days dreaming about it, the one school in particular. It was not a normal school and he was not a normal child. In fact, even for the abnormal children who attended the mysterious abnormal school seemed ordinary compared to him. He was, in all ways, very different.

Of course, it wasn't his fault. To say that it was is like telling a child it is their fault they have blonde hair or green eyes. Though then, I suppose, you could argue it's the parents fault. It's because of them their child is the way they are. But it's not really. Because they couldn't help it either.

Remus was one of those children who had no one to blame for his abnormalities. He knew that his parents were innocent; they would never do something so horrible to him. And he knew that it wasn't the fault of his creator either, if you could call him (or her) that. He was a very rational boy, and he wasn't one to judge someone on something they couldn't control. Especially when he was like them. Sometimes, when it was his last night of the month before he got bad again, he would think of them. He liked to think that somewhere, in some place, his creator was also lying in their bed, staring at the ceiling and dreading. Just dreading the inevitable. He wondered whether they remembered the nights and the terror and the pain. He wondered if they too were surrounded by destruction- destruction they had caused. But mostly, and he took great comfort in this, he wondered if they thought about him. And if they worried about how he felt about the approaching full moon, like he worried about them. His father didn't think he should care, but Remus couldn't help it. He was a freak. They were both freaks. Both of them..._Werewolves._

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_Hi! So this is my first fanfiction EVER so I hope you're enjoying it. If I get into it I might make a four part series for the marauders told from each point of view - maybe even one for Lily! Please let me know what you think :) - Jackal_


	2. Chapter One: The biting slippers

**Chapter One: The biting slippers**

Remus awoke suddenly. He was standing outside and it was tipping down. Shivering slightly, he felt a steady stream of rain squeeze through his dark shaggy hair and down his back, making a path between his shoulder blades. It was still dark, and a dim glow emitted by a near by lamp post shone down on him. He looked almost like a ghost in the soft light.

Stretching out his long, bruised arms, he yawned. His feet felt raw and were throbbing slightly. Dam those slippers of his! Sleepwalking was a horrible habit, especially when your parents wanted you at home at all times. It led to nasty perks, like wearing slippers that bite your feet when you walk around at night. Remus had lost count now of how many times he had got up to use the bathroom and felt a stab of pain shoot through his ankles. He'd gotten into the routine of using the toilet immediately before bed time-the dooming hour when his mum would wrestle his feet into the ugly pink frilled shoes, where they would remain locked until 7 the next morning. As much as he knew his mother wanted to protect him, he couldn't help but feel a strong surge of desire to scream at her every time she bought them out. Eventually he'd given up resistance, but the memory of his first encounter with the hideous things was burned cruelly into his mind.

Scanning his surroundings, he sighed. This was the third time this week he had managed to get himself lost. Obviously it wasn't his fault, but his mother still glared every time she had to come find him at two in the morning somewhere in the middle of the countryside. This worried him. What if she was planning to dress him in a screeching, lacy girls frock, or tie him to his bed using magic handcuffs? He didn't want to find out, so this time he decided to brave the shoes and started to try and find his way back home on his own.

Remus lived on a farm with his mother and father in the middle of the Scottish highlands. The nearest school was a three hour drive and there were no houses for miles. In fact, there weren't even any roads, just a battered out path here and there that had been here ever since they moved when he was five. The family used to live in the outskirts of Bristol, where his father had been working as a magical being translator, and his mother as a muggle art teacher. Then he had gotten bitten by a werewolf, and his parents had fled to the highlands in hope to keep their secret safe, and also to protect their son from discrimination from the wizarding society. Nobody knew where they had gone, nobody knew why they had left. They had pretty much disappeared off the face of the earth.

Though despite living in Scotland for almost six years now (he was eleven), he had no trace of Scottish accent at all. He had never even met a Scottish person, unless you count his old neighbour, Mrs. Mograndy, but she was only one eighth Scottish and sounded like a very drunk, hiccuping Australian. In fact, he did not even know what a Scottish person sounds like. In his imagination he liked to think they sounded like barbaric farmers, with long, drawn out vowels and slurred consonants. His dad's impression didn't sound much like that, but then again, his dad's impression sounded kind of like a dying sheep. It wasn't pleasant to listen to, nor was it very educating.

Usually though, his father was a very educating man. Since the Lupin's lived far, far away from any civilisation, when the family wasn't out in the endless fields collecting food or fishing or tending to the cows, they were huddled around their small kitchen table, teaching Remus everything they possibly could. Mr. Lupin taught Remus maths, science, French, Gobbledeegook (goblin) and Troll (a highly amusing language to learn – I strongly suggest you take an interest in it). Where as taught art, English, Wizarding and muggle history, and the piano. It was an odd mixture of lessons, but Remus took it upon himself to strive to be the best in every subject his parents threw at him. Impressing them was a vital part of his daily life, he wanted to substitute as best as he could all the problems he had caused for them.

There was, however, one thing he wanted to learn more than anything else. One thing that he yearned for and craved. Magic.

He was a wizard. It had been clear ever since the day he had quite literally glared holes into the back of his mothers head for scolding him. At seven years old, he had went through an age of tantrums and his mother still tentatively touched the back of her head every time she told him off. This was, luckily, a very rare occasion. A well behaved boy, Remus liked to stay out of trouble. He was naturally very forgiving and kind and did not like to fall out with people, especially his parents whom he knew tried so hard to accommodate his awful disease.

Snapping back into reality, Remus squinted into the distance where a faint glow of sunlight was peeping up over the mountains. He needed to get back, and quickly, before his parents woke up. Spotting the distant outline of his house, he began to run, his wolf blood boosting his speed. He should be back in time, he hoped. But the slippers were tearing at his heels and he was still not fully awake yet. He rubbed his eyes as he ran and sped up. With any lucky, he could pretend that he had just gone to check on the cows. It was a terrible lie, but it was all he had. He was SO not wearing a frock!

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What did you think? Is it okay? This is my first ever fanfiction so I hope it's good enough...


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